The blog that time forgot.

Winter embraced us early this season, taking the PNW from indian summer bliss, to months of classic drudgery, with abundant rain, and brown leaves, sodden-- cloaking the ground like an autumn memorial.  

Post summer break had been a much needed respite for myself, and this transition left me pining for more trips to the mountains and crags.  But like a switch, our endless streak of sun blurred into endless days of rain. Reluctantly, I eased my grip on climbing, shifting gears once again.

This change coincided seamlessly with the onset of another academic quarter.  As the days trickled by, I became absorbed in the diurnal cycle of study, learning all about the power of kinematic equations, and the complexity of human anatomy.  From classroom windows I would gaze out through water streaked glass at dark skies, recalling the fading memories of glory days gone by.

It was early November, late in the evening,  and Friday as I recall; it had been a long day filled with class and an evening shift at Marmot.  Tiff picked me up at work.  As we exited the shop she said abruptly, "let's go to Spain", amidst the deluge and blearing horns of Bellevue traffic.  Golden trumpets erupted in my mind as I saw visions of Spanish tufas, rest days spent wandering old european style villages, and vistas far removed from the familiar.  Nonchalantly, I said, "alright", while a wave of smile slowly rolled across my face.

Within the week, we had purchased tickets to Barcelona and procured lodging, and the world seemed a little brighter in my universe.

Despite the rain, I desperately needed to get into shape.  For anyone familiar with the Seattle climbing scene, when the fall season is over, its really over.  With Smith Rocks inconsistent at best, and 6 hours to the South, the inside of the climbing gyms starts looking realllly good.

Much to my stoke, at this time the Vertical World offered to sponsor my training, and for that I'm psyched and truly grateful.  The Seattle gym offers walls that are much taller than any other gym around; and training endurance here is possible.  After many winters spent in Seattle, hobnobbing the circuit of gyms, I have found a place to train for outdoor routes.  At the VW, movement matters.  There is texture when you need it.  But more importantly, the route setters take time to meticulously incorporate footholds instead of them being an afterthought.  My hat goes off to Tyson and his team of genius setters.

For five weeks I trained furiously.  The days leading up to Spain were packed.  During finals week we moved all our stuff into storage, with the plan of finding alternative housing options upon our return.  As we boarded our flight to Barcelona, I already felt spent, but happy to have made it through the previous weeks turbulence.

20 hours later we checked into the Medium City hotel near Sants Station Barcelona.  I hadn't slept in 26 hours and my eyes were bloodshot.  After a two hour nap, we dragged ourselves out of bed and met up with Greg Collum.

Greg lived for many years in Seattle and is responsible for scores of desperate first ascents at Index.  Living in Spain now, he owns a wonderful house in Cornedulla de Montsant that he rents to climbers.  For anyone visiting the areas of Siurana, Montsant, and Margalef, his house is perfect, and little more than a stone's throw from Siurana.  Greg graciously went out of his way for us, providing us with information on places to eat,  directions, and insight that would serve us well during our holiday.

For us, grin, Catalunya was the perfect December escape.  Every morning we would walk down to a little cafe and have coffee and a chocolate croissant.  Daytime high's averaged 60 Fahrenheit, the perfect tonic for two rain weary Washingtonians.

Most of our climbing days were dolled out in Siurana, 15 minutes away.  This sport climbing venue has a long-standing history and tradition for crimpy vertical climbing, much like Smith.  Looking for something of less familiar stock,  I wound up trying Kale Borroka (8B+).  This gorgeous route cuts a steep wave-like roof of orange limestone and stretches almost 40 meters to its anchor.  During my second day I went up and took a look, finding reasonable sequences, and perfect endurance climbing.  It was love.  Unfortunately, it was love also for many other climbers.  Resultantly, some days I could only squeeze in one or two tries.

But, I'm pretty stubborn, and my persistence eventually paid off.  Most of our climbing days were filled with rope stretching 5.11's which gave us plenty of variety and mileage.  Of course, we reveled in the sunshine, every minute of it.

I so love this.

Main street in Cornedulla de Montsant

Farmer's market in Cornedulla.

Raco de Misa, Montsant

Mom, I'm only joking here.

A nice hike with Raco de Misa sector in the far distance.

One aspect that we both really enjoyed was the National Park of Montsant.  The hiking and climbing are both fantastic.  Two of our days were spent up at Raco de Misa, a tall wall lining the mountain top, riddled in pockets.  I'd highly recommend this to anyone who like to get a nice hike, view, and climbing destination in one package.

Also, if you ever find yourself in this neck of the woods, be sure to stop by the quaint town of Cartoixa where El Rebost de la Cartoixa can be found.  We both ate a 3 course meal for around 10 euro each.  It was delicious.

The olympics grounds, Barcelona.

This is the view from our rental house in Cornedulla de Montsant with the church in the background.  The lights of Siurana can be seen in the far distance.

After ten days, Tiff had to fly back home for work, leaving me solo.  We drove our rental car back to Barcelona on Christmas Eve and did some more sightseeing.  

The subway made getting in and out of the city a cinch, and we only wish that we had such infrastructure back home.  Though we're huge proponents of riding the metro around Seattle, it can be hard to trade a 10 minute car ride for 40 minutes in a bus.  

The next morning I woke up alone.  For seasoned travelers this is probably no big deal.  But, honestly, I was nervous about navigating my way back to Cornedulla.  We had an easy enough time getting lost with one of us driving and the other one looking at a map.  With just me, I decided to memorize the directions.  Here's some advice, if the rental guy asks if you want the GPS thing, just say yes.

With a hardy buffet under my belt, I checked out of our hotel and hit the road, which thankfully was mostly barren.

Having arrived safely back in Cornedulla, I had another ten days in Spain before my flight left.  At this point, I had still to wrap up Kale Borroka, though I had managed to get past the crux only to fall off afterwards.  I wasn't feeling any serious pressure.  I've long since abandoned the feeling that I absolutely have to finish every route I start.  Yeah, I've got projects all over North America that I'll never send.  But, I was optimistic that I might finish this one yet.

For the remainder of my climbing days, which amounted to roughly 4, I climbed with some really nice guys from Slovenia, Zan & Gregor, Lucas from Austria, Markus from Germany and many others.  It was so inspiring to be around such an international group of climbers.  Within a couple more goes I finished off Kale Borroka.  A wonderful route and my 14th route in the 5.14- grade.  There's a great video of Alizee Dufraisse climbing it here http://vimeo.com/22206539

Gregor almost 8b onsight.

     The day before New Years I went back to Siurana.  Having finished my project and feeling in good shape.  I decided to have a look at another 8b+ called Migranya Profunda.  Alex, an exceptionally gifted (shorter) climber had done the route the year before.  So, I decided it might be possible.

Within 20 minutes I had done all the moves to the 5th bolt, which comprises the crux.  I was psyched. But, there was one really, I mean really long for me move to the left.  I had done the move once, but on the second try disaster struck.  While using a deep left drop-knee I went too far and my knee suddenly imploded.  It was gunshot quality.  People 100 feet down the cliffside could hear the ricochet.  Needless to say, I blew out my MCL and spent the remaining five days on Greg's couch, while I awaited my departure date.  I read 3 books and watched Greg's entire library of movies; so, it could have been worse.  

Two months later, I've just had my second day back in the  climbing gym.  Doctors say that the MCL will be better in another month and that there is no torn meniscus, so that is a relief.  On a positive note, I'm almost done with all my pre-requirement coursework, and am looking forward to applying to PT schools this next academic year.  

With that I'll say adieu, and leave you with a parting shot of one of my favorite places.  Looking forward to finding some new adventure on these old walls, Index.  

Vanishing Point

Yesterday I had the opportunity to do a free ascent of Bryan Burdo's elusive Vanishing Point on the imposing Dolomite Tower of Mt. Baring.  For 20 years I'd stared down this iconic Nordwand from U.S. Highway 2, as I sped to Index, Steven's Pass or other trailheads.  Mt. Baring rears like a proud sentinel situated just East of Index, between the North and South Fork of the Skykomish River.  At just 6125 ft elevation, it isn't all that tall; but what it lacks in elevation it makes up in angle. 

The town of Index with Mt. Baring dead center.

Fresh from a no falls ascent of Liberty Bell's Thin Red Line (5.12b/c) two weeks earlier with Blake Herrington, I thought perhaps I had the juice and fortitude to attempt Vanishing Point (5.12) on Mt. Baring.  With a forecast for unseasonably warm conditions, I cemented plans with Blake for a 5am start.  True to form, I heard the rumble of Blake's car as he pulled into the Barclay Lake trailhead just after 5am.  At 5:30am, just as we were about to hit it, we realized Blake's headlamp batteries had somehow died.  One headlamp is better than none...but on a thousand foot wall, two-thirds the way up Mt. Baring, that headlamp ratio would surely mean big wall bivy, if we didn't top out by nightfall.  Unfazed by our predicament, we took to the trail with gusto.

Jesse Heineman on the Upper Wall at Index.  Mt. Baring and Mt. Index both form
imposing backdrops.

Patrick O'Donnell and Jess Heineman at Index.  Good friends and Vanishing Point advisors.

From what information I was able to gather, Vanishing Point was established in the early 90's by the legendary Washington climber Bryan Burdo.  The route follows an amazing blunt arete for a thousand feet topping out just shy of the North Summit on Dolomite Tower.   There are intermittent crack systems throughout the climb, but the defining character of the route is bolted face climbing, on good to superb alpine granite like metamorphic stone, accessed by an adventurous and considerable approach.  

Mt. Baring's North Walls.  Vanishing Point climbs the middle tower top and center.  The rock is steep and lighter in color than the adjacent walls.

After trolling the internet and Cascade alpine guide books, I wasn't able to come up with any firm route topos or other anecdotal tidbits to shed light on the route.  However, fortunate for us, Patrick O'Donnell and Jesse Heineman had put in several attempts on VP in the recent past, and on their last, pushed it to the top.  My sincere gratitude goes out to these gents who answered my endless questions on the subject.   It must be noted that they in turn had received some route/approach beta from Matt Anderson, who climbed the route 12 or so years ago, I think.

The previous week, I had taken an afternoon to recon the initial approach and stash a chord up near the forested rib.  This tactic definitely served us well and without it, our one day ascent probably wouldn't have worked.

The approach starts by taking a dry streambed up towards Barclay Lake.

Fixed lines leading up the forested rib.  Without these lines, a one day ascent would likely be impossible.  The angle of the forest is way steep, sometimes getting up to 70 degrees.

Working our way up the forested rib.  

Once in the forested rib region, we quickly decided to not simul climb the forest due to rope drag etc.  Instead, we just bat-manned ropes and motored.  We topped the forested ridge out at 7am.  1.5 hours to here.  At this point the views really open up.
Dropping down and left into the gully system, we climbed another 400 or something feet up to 60m pitch of 5.8 slab.  This pitch had at one point been coated in some horrid rock dust.  But, we found nice dry slab climbing.

Dawn on Dolomite Tower.

Blake following the first 200 ft' 5.8 slab which gains a large bench.

Getting psyched!!

Sunrise around 7am, from the top of the forested rib.

Merchant Peak in the background?

After the first real pitch, there is a long eastward traverse to gain 400 more feet mostly 5th- 5.8 type of climbing.  There are some bolts towards the gully's end which enabled very nice face climbing on uniquely sculpted holds.

Blake exiting the last gully pitch.

Navigating 2nd and 3rd class ramps which lead up and left to VP's base.

Feeling a little awkward in a helmet, but quite happy to have one.  

VP towering above us, capped with a 20 foot roof towards the end.  I'll admit it was a bit intimidating.

Bolt hanger flattened by rock fall.

Forest fires East of the mountains have filled many valleys with smoke.
 NOAA had actually put a hazardous air quality warning up.  We found ourselves with
unusually dry throats through much of the day.

There is an excellent terraced area of talus, heather, and fir near the base of Dolomite Tower.

We enjoyed some snacks.  Time 9:30am.  Time to rock climb.  My plan was to try and link the first two bolted pitches, both of which are 10c.  Since I knew these pitches were 100% bolted I elected to just have draws and runners.  My plan worked until just past the first 10c anchor where I lost the bolted line and ended up in 5.9 cracks.  I kept thinking bolts would show up.  Wrong.  75 feet after my last bolt I managed to find the anchor.  It was exciting, but not the start I was looking for.  

Blake following the last bit of climbing on pitch 2.

Blake trying to figure out how to enter the first 5.11 crack pitch.

After the first two 10c pitches Blake took off up the first filter pitch.  Our topo and advice didn't really help us here, and the terrain was serious, with some widow maker type blocks just up and right of the belay.  I offered to take a shot at it.  Just up and right of the two stacked blocks I committed to an unprotected and barn door-ish move up to a jug.  After that I was able to get a nice purple TCU, which was my last piece for 20 more feet.  The start of the pitch would definitely be safer with one bolt before the committing move.  The remaining pitch and following one are both excellent 5.11 crack climbing on bomber rock.

Blake following 5.11 awkward crack with a backpack.  Impressive!

Blake following the first "filter" pitch with the lake way down below.

Blake not only climbs well but is also quite fashionable.  I think this is his version of
"Blue Steel" or "le Tigre"

Blake sending pitch 4 in style.  5.11-

Mt. Baring has an incredible position in the Cascades, delivering panoramic views in all direction.  Glacier
Peak.  Not a bad view.

Starting the face climbing.  5.11-

Above this point, there are some bolted variations which beg questions like, "am I on route?" or "will this go free?"  Honestly, it was a bit much, kind of like a choose your own adventure climb.  I'm thinking that perhaps Bryan isn't completely done adjusting bolts and route direction yet.  Anyhow, we mostly chose the correct line I think.  I stopped at a belay 30 feet above the roof pictured above.  It  probably wasn't the right anchor.  In turn Blake led the remaining 11.c pitch.  After that there is a hard 11.c bolted arete out left finishing on gear.  It felt more like 12b to me.  But, I managed to claw my way through some heinous holds and delicate smeary feet.  If this was 11c I thought...what is the next 12a pitch below the roof going to be like?

Blake led this 11c pitch.  There isn't anything straight forward about the climbing style.
It is not only tenuous, but the holds are mostly odd angled ones; and finding them
could be the real crux.  No chalk trails up here.

Fortunately, I have some TC Pros from La Sportiva.  They are like a secret weapon for vertical funk.

Blake following the next "11c" pitch.  We both thought this was more like 12-ish.

Me following Blake's lead of pitch 8.  This pitch was 10-, but the runouts between bolts and gear
were certainly provocative.  Burdo definitely made a valiant effort to keep VP exciting.  And, I would definitely not
consider it a sport climb, despite there being pitches that are mostly bolted.  Most of the time you still want to gear on your harness just in case.

Before gaining a hanging belay below the roof, there is a spectacular pitch (mostly bolted) of 12a.  Two bolts up from the belay I negotiated a heinous highstep and lock-off to clip a chain hanging from a high bolt.  It took me quite a bit of hold groping to figure out how to navigate out left and continue. These moves were 11+.  15 feet above that lies the crux.  I won't ruin it for you.  But, I'll tell you that I jumped.  Lucky me, I caught a hold!  Up and left of here there are two bolted lines.  After hemming and hawing for several minutes, I elected to take the bolted line leading back onto the arete, thinking this is probably where BB would want to climb.  The remaining moves of this pitch are delicate and spectacular, weaving a cunning path around the arete, with a bit of runout scariness gaining the hanging belay.  Needless to say, I'm feeling pretty psyched to make it this far without falling.  Actually, it makes my fingertips start to sweat just thinking about those cerebral alpine hand holds and precarious moves.  

Blake leading the 11a roof pitch.  This one takes a line around to the right to a hanging belay.

Blake led the roof pitch next and completely smoked it, monkey style.  The holds are pretty good, but the exposure is unreal; and the views, priceless.

Nothing but 1000ft of air below you.  Good times.

Still smiling.

At this point I was starting to feel very worked.  Somewhat nervous, I cast off and around the roof to deal with the last 12a/b crux moves.  I was very near the finishing holds when I realized that I needed like 5 more inches of arm span to hit an enormous jug.  Flames were literally bursting from my forearms and my fingers were starting to open up.  Not wanting to fall out into space and have to deal with getting back onto route, I grabbed the draw and took.  After some exploration I found a hidden undercling which enabled me to cross through and do a couple matches.  Blake, the paragon of patience allowed me to return back under the roof to the belay.  I untied, pulled the rope, and sent next go.  

Blake following the 12b pitch.

From here there are 3 more pitches to the top. The last two of which harbor significant runouts
and questionable blocks off all sizes.  Heads up for sure.

We topped out the route around 7pm.  Back to the cars at 9:45pm.  Many thanks goes to BB, Matt Anderson, Patrick O'Donnell, Jesse Heineman and mostly importantly Blake for making this free ascent possible.  It was an awesome day in the mountains!  Now, I'm ready to start Anatomy and Physics next week!!

But first, one more trip to Squamish...

Oh, and if anyone has more historical knowledge on this route, please feel free to contact me so I can make adjustments.